Page 5 of Weaving Winter

“Yes, of course,” she said. “The mistress treats me well. I pick up extra shifts often enough, and she doesn’t require me to pay for my food. I live with my parents, and they don’t like that I work around men, but we don’t have a choice. My parents need my help, and even though they want me to lead my own life, I don’t plan on doing anything else for now.”

She spread out a thick blanket over a mound of hay, then a heavy quilt over the top. “The fire’s over there, if you need to warm up. We can’t have it too close to the stalls for obvious reasons. Flame and dried straw do not mix, but it still takes the edge off. If you need help?—”

“I’ll scream,” I said, showing her my weapons. “I never leave my village unprepared, whether it be for a hunting trip, or a journey like this one.” As I slid in between the blanket and the quilt, I realized that straw was a far sight more comfortable than I thought.

Rona waved at me, then headed out of the barn. I was alone with a group of horses, a crackling fire, and my thoughts.

A few minutes later, the stable hand came over to introduce himself.

“Hey, I’m Jet,” he said. He was younger than I had thought him to be. He couldn’t be more than fifteen. “Nyett said you’d be staying here for the night. Do you have enough hay to cushion you?”

I nodded, holding out my hand as I sat up in bed. “Thank you, yes. I’m Asajia.”

“You’re from the north,” he said.

“Yes, from Renmark.” I yawned. “I see where the water pump is. If I get thirsty?—”

“There’s a spare bucket of water there that I use, as well. Feel free to drink from it. The water’s fresh. The privy is that way,” he pointed to the opposite end of the stables. “I’m going to snuff the lamps. There’s one central one by the door that stays lit all night, but it’s secure.”

“Is there fire in the lampposts in Lake Shore? I never see the flames,” I asked.

He shook his head. “The lights are magical. The mayor of the village is a witch, and her sister takes care of things like that.”

“Your mayor is a woman?” I’d never thought about the politics of the village, or if they might be different than Renmark’s.

“Yes, and she’s good at her job. All right, I’ll let you to sleep now. I’ve a long day ahead of me and I need my shut-eye.” Jet turned and, crossing the room, climbed a ladder leading to the loft. I assumed he had a room there.

As I dug deep in my covers, still chilly but warm enough to manage some sleep, I prayed to Elieyana that my game brought good trades and coin tomorrow, and that my bride-dress sold. If they didn’t, I had no clue what I was going to do.

CHAPTER FOUR

The next morning, Rona startled me when she woke me at dawn. “Mistress Nyett wondered if you’d care to have breakfast with her,” she said. “She’s waiting in her private chamber.”

I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus. I was used to starting the morning off with a cup of kieve, an herb tea that both energized and fortified. Right now, my mind was still a giant fluffball, cloudy with lots of haze.

“I…thank you. Let me wash up?—”

“The Mistress says for you to come right away, that you can use the washroom inside.” Rona started to turn, then paused. “Oh, she asks you to bring the bride-dress as well.”

Startled—Nyett was already married—I merely nodded and pushed back the quilt, shivering as the morning air hit me. I’d slept in my clothes, and as I followed Rona out of the stables, the box with the bride-dress under my arm, I saw that it was raining.

The drops were coming down, icy fat droplets spattering on the cobblestones around us. I pulled up my hood and we dashed across the distance separating the stables from the inn.

As Rona held the door for me, I hurried in, my gaze going automatically toward the central fireplace. The dining room was empty, save for the servants I recognized from the restaurant. Jet was there, and a couple of the cleaning women, as well as two guards that Nyett had hired for protection against wayward visitors. They were eating, and the smell of breakfast lingered in the air.

“Follow me,” Rona said, leading me toward the back. Apparently, Nyett’s suite of rooms was on the main floor.

I followed her through a long hall to the end, where she tapped on the door. Nyett’s voice echoed out, and Rona opened the door, leading me in.

“Asajia, you’re here. Good,” Nyett said. “Breakfast, Rona, for two.”

Rona curtsied and vanished back down the hall.

I turned to Nyett. “Morning. You wanted to see me?”

“You brought the bride-dress? Oh, wonderful. I’d like to see it, please.” She settled in an arm chair and motioned to my package. I set the package on the table, but Nyett shook her head. “Breakfast will be here any moment. Please, if you would sit on the divan, and open the box?”

I followed directions. I really had no idea what she wanted. I shook the dress out and held it up. The dress was a fall of gauzy tiers, over a heavier linen sheath. It was ivory, in color, dyed from the best tea in the land, and the weaving still looked perfect to me. Light blue beads, carved from gemstones, dappled the dress. It must have taken months to make this. The dress shimmied with soft sounds as I moved it, the beads gently kissing one another.

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